


I Gave You a Double Glance

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Flamboyant Sherlock, John is bi, Look Sherlock actually has friends, M/M, POV John Watson, Teenlock, femboy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 05:00:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6940840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school isn't easy. All the movies lie to you. There's no first day love, no singing. It's just homework, tit teachers, and random hook ups with girls in the school parking lot. But John Watson wasn't going to ruin his last year of high school just because he moved to a new neighborhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Gave You a Double Glance

**Author's Note:**

> I live in America, and don't have much knowledge of British school systems. However, besides the grading scale, I don't think they're much different
> 
> This is briefly based off of one of my stories from That Thing That You Do, a series of one shots by yours truly, and artwork by ShootBadCabbies.

He had already missed the bus, on his first day.

And to top it all off, it was raining.

He tried to get Harry to drive him, but she bitched that it was his own fault for sleeping in and said she needed to meet Clara for Uni.

So he had no choice but to walk.

The rain soaked John to the bone, mudding around his feet as his shoes made weird squishing noises beneath him. Wanstead High was a bit of a walk, and he prayed to the God he didn't believe in that he wouldn't be late. It wasn't like he cared. He didn't plan on passing all of his classes this year with perfect grades anyway. But this stuff went on permanent records, and if he ever wanted to be a doctor, he knew this year he'd have to be more focused and work harder.

Finally John saw the roof of a building coming closer in his peripheral vision and he ran to the school. Thankfully, vast quantities of students were still pouring in, desperate to get away from the rain, and he knew he hadn't been late after all. When John got inside he quickly shook himself much like a wet dog and made a mental note to buy an umbrella. It wasn't even eleven yet and already the sky was dark with clouds.

He adjusted the strap of his satchel and took in his surroundings. New school, new life. The lockers were lined up much like his old high school, and students crowded around them. He looked down at a wet piece of paper in his hand; a map of the school. He needed to get to the guidance office, but he only had a few minutes before Chemistry started. He decided it could wait until lunch and he would just carry his things with him. John cleared his throat and made his way through the strong herd of teenagers. He wasn't even sure where room 202 was, and he wasn't about to embarrass himself and ask for directions. So he navigated himself blindly across the halls before almost running into someone. The someone managed to back away just in time.

“Hey there, you look lost!”

John turned to the fat teen. No really, he was very pudgy. Small glasses sat atop a plump nose, and kind eyes shone brightly at him. John smiled in response.

“Truthfully, I am. New town, new school...it's gonna take me a while to get used to living here. I'm John, by the way. Nice to meet you, uh...”

The boy smiled. “It's Mike. Mike Stamford, the feeling is mutual John. Lucky for you I've been going since first year. Is there a room you're looking for?”

“Yeah, actually... Um, could you point me to the Chemistry classroom?”

They had walked a bit further before stopping in a hallway that was barely filled with students. Mike pointed to a door a few feet away.

“Looks like we managed to walk there! It's that room right there, on the left. Hope you enjoy your first class, John.”

John smiled. “Well, thanks Mike. See you later, maybe?”

Mike nodded and walked away, leaving John alone once again. The teen sighed and slowly approached room 202. Giving it one last look over, he opened the door...

...and was met with a different variety of people. The teacher had yet to make it to the classroom, but students were there already. There weren't many there, thankfully, and no one looked up when he walked in so that was a bit good. John scanned the room and, finding a vacant spot near the windows, trudged over to what would be his seat for the rest of the year.

His satchel had dried, which was nice, so he threw it on the table next to him and fished out a notebook and pencil. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his mobile and opened up a texting app, sending a 'Good morning' to Sholto, who still lived in Liverpool. They had barely talked since John moved away, and he suspected they were beginning to drift apart. Which really didn't bother him. Sholto was a nice enough guy, but John hadn't liked being around him much and had lied when he said he was going to miss the other. He sighed and put his phone back up, this time in the side of his satchel.

“You must be new.”

John jumped up in surprise. He didn't think anyone had registered his presence. The blond turned and had to do a double glance. A boy, who didn't look much younger than him, stood there, just staring. John hesitated and took in the others appearance.

Tall, even from this position. Dark brown curls lay upon his head, and underneath was an angular face with razor edged cheekbones and light electric blue eyes, all topped with plump, cupid bow lips. John could see sharp collar bones and thin shoulders, because this boy was wearing a crop top. Floral, with spaghetti strap sleeves and a small sunflower in the middle. A honey coloured skirt hung off his hips to match, and black flats finished the look. John blinked. 

“Uh, yeah...How did you..?”

“The way you came into the room, delaying in the doorway and observing your surroundings suggests unfamiliarity.” At that last word the boy leaned against the table next to John's satchel, his perfect ass (perfect? That was a bit of stretch considering John had just met the other but he couldn't think of a better word) spilling onto the wood surface. “You sat by the windows, a commonplace for students attending a new school. And I don't remember seeing you before today, though that's a small detail I barely remember anyone's faces every year.”

John chuckled. “Clever observation.”

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“John Watson.”

Sherlock grinned, and blew a bubble (he'd been chewing gum? John hadn't noticed) before waving off and going back to his seat. John watched him leave, hips swaying, that perfect ass (this time he could confidently use that word) going side to side, only to be seated between two girls who at once began chatting him up. They looked over to John and broke into a fit of giggles. The one with short black hair whispered something into Sherlock's ear, which caused him to scoff and push her away gently. John grinned a bit and turned back around just as the teacher walked into class.

* * *

Later that day, John had seen flyers around school for rugby auditions and he decided to sign up. Something to distract from the fairly obvious notion of being new, plus he liked watching it on the telly and had played all three years at his previous school. It was too early in the year for the season, but recruits were needed and he thought sooner was better than later.

Auditions were being held in the gym due to the weather outside. Two goals were set up on either sides of the large room and a bag of balls lay in wait by a table. The bleachers were peppered with students, and he had a weird feeling most of them weren't here to watch guys kick around a ball. John made his way over to the table, where two teens in uniforms stood talking. Lestrade and Anderson, their jersey's said. Lestrade immediately saw John making his way over to them and addressed the other with a cheerful smile. 

“Lemme guess, you're here for cheer leading try outs?”

John couldn't help but chuckle as the older handed him a slip of paper and a pen. “How did you know?” The two erupted into simultaneous laughter, and the other one, Anderson, just rolled his eyes.

“Not to rush this new found friendship, but we are on a schedule. We've got two hours before the dance team shoves us out of here to practice.” Anderson jammed a thumb behind him to a group of girls sat at the bleachers on their mobiles. John practically leered from ear to ear when he saw someone he recognized, who had changed from short skirt to tight leggings and ballet shoes. Sherlock looked up just long enough to see John and gave a moment of gesticulation to show he had seen the other. John eagirly waved back and moved his attention to the other members. A group had already begun to form, and it looked like they were ready to start.

“Well, let's get this show on the road!”

The try outs lasted two hours and an additional five minutes. During that time John proved his stability and stealthiness, dodging kicks on the waxed field and blocking pursuited goals from makeshift rivals. By the time they were done he was left a sweaty, heaving mess.

“Don't worry,” Lestrade came up to pat him on the back, gasping to catch his breath.  “It'll be much more brutal on the field.”

“Wait, does that mean-”

“Congrats, bucko! Welcome to the team!”

John whooped very loudly and brought Lestrade into a very manly hug. “Fuck, thank you! It means a lot!”

“Now, you will have to keep your grades in line, but I'm positive you'll manage. Now come on, let's hit the showers.” Lestrade gestured to the locker rooms and set off towards them. 

“Yeah, uh, coming.”

“Congratulations.”

John turned and saw cheekbones. Those fucking thighs, dear God.

“On making the team, I mean.” Sherlock stood with a bag on his shoulder, a coy smile playing at his lips.

“Oh, uh, thanks. I'm hoping to get captain.”

“Well, if anyone can, it's you.”

It was silent for a bit, the two of them just staring at each other, before John heard Lestrade call him again and he snapped back into reality.

“I've gotta, um, yeah...b-but, I'll see you later?”

“Is that a promise?” Sherlock mused.

“Definitely.” And with that he turned and made his way to the changing rooms, looking behind him to watch Sherlock begin helping the others set up for dance. He felt his heart flutter and practically leap into his throat. His first day of school had been very promising.

 


End file.
